


Back to London

by KByrd



Series: Tourist in time [5]
Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-17
Updated: 2014-07-17
Packaged: 2018-02-09 05:01:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1969959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KByrd/pseuds/KByrd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Still uncertain of his place in the modern world, Steve goes another mission with Clint. And finds modern London competing in his head with memories of wartime London.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Hill sends Clint and Steve on one more assignment. “Since we didn’t get adequate data on the last two,” she grumbles.

Clint translates to Steve in a stage whisper, “By that she means that it wasn’t tough enough to test if you can handle yourself in the modern age.”

Steve shrugs. The previous two missions were easy – hardly broke a sweat.

This target is a little more interesting. They have to find him (requiring that Steve demonstrate prowess with gps on a smart phone) and then track him even though he’s perpetually on the move.

“Got your travel documents?” Clint asks as they perch on a building, watching the cars below. “I got a feeling …”

“Yeah,” Steve answers. “You mean passports and stuff?”

“Uh huh.”

“They gave me one with a fake birth year,” Steve complains faintly.

Clint grins. “You’d get pulled over if you tried to claim your real age. How old are you really?”

“Just feels wrong – like I’m lying.”

Clint’s intuition proves right and they track their target to the airport. Clint hacks in and reports that he’s headed to London. 

So they are too.

“Been there before?” Clint asks.

“Yeah, I was based in Norfolk during the war,” Steve answers.

Since they’re not on the same flight as their target, it’s fine to sit together.

“First time you’ve flown in a while?” Clint asks.

“Hmm,” Steve mutters. “I flew a lot back in the day. I was kind of hoping that the experience would have improved.”

“You and me both, buddy,” Clint agrees with feeling. “There was a brief period of time – so short even I missed it – when flying was cool and glamorous. Now they just try to see how many ways they can make you miserable.”

 

Steve is caught off guard by modern London.

He knows, really understands, intellectually that the war was over decades ago, but in his own memories, he was here mere months ago.

He stumbles looking at the gleaming modern buildings while he remembers the bombed out husks, the smoke, the fog, the smell of cheap coal and cordite in the air.

“Are you alright?” Clint asks in concern.

Steve tries to explain. “I left New York because it was bizarre seeing the familiar and the new sort of overlaid – but this is so much more. Sorry. I’ll be ok.”

“Don’t apologize,” Clint says. “We’ve all got our quirks.”

Steve does a double take at the accents. Two women talking as they walk along the sidewalk drive him to distraction.

He knows that there are hundreds of different accents in the UK and that an expert can identify details about a person just from their accent – not only information about their geographic origins, but their socio-economic class and even the school they attended.

But right now, the chatter, the accents, the quirky turns of phrase remind him powerfully of the English men and women he served with. 

Clint is amused. He steers Steve into the bar in their hotel.

The waitress takes their order and Steve fumbles his order a bit.

“Did you spend a lot of time in London during the war?” Clint asks.

“Yeah, more here than anywhere else,” Steve admits. “I was in London just a few weeks before …”

“Ah.”

“Sorry.”

Steve traces his finger along the rim of his empty glass. “I’ll be ok for the mission,” he insists. “Just taking me by surprise.”

“Of course.”

And he is. 

They luck out in their surveillance and catch up to their target in a matter of days. 

To Steve’s surprise, Clint steps back and lets him conduct the interrogation – probably meant as a further test of his skills. Luckily, he’s conducted interrogations before and knows just when to push and when to step back. Clint glowers from the doorway, willing to play 'bad cop' if necessary. It's not. The target is weary and half relieved that the drama is over.

Once they’ve got the information that they need, Clint orders him to ‘call it in.’

Agents from the London office descend to take their prisoner away.

One female agent supervises the removal and then approaches the pair. She greets Clint with a kiss on each cheek (leaving a bemused Steve to wonder if Clint really does have a girl in every port). She extends a hand to Steve who shakes it.

“Lovely job,” she says lightly.

Steve does a double take. She looks nothing like Peggy – she has short, blunt cut strawberry blond hair and the pale peaches and cream complexion so common in England, but her accent is spot on. She must have been raised in the same neighbourhood and maybe even attended the same school as Peggy. If he closes his eyes … 

He doesn’t of course.

He shakes her hand and they introduce each other. Her name is Elaine.

“New old guy,” Clint explains with a wave, “just running him through his paces.”

Steve doesn’t even notice that he’s watching her leave until Clint punches his shoulder.

“You’re staring,” he laughs.

“I’m not!”

Clint looks amused.

Steve shrugs. “It’s the accent. She sounds just like someone I know … knew.”

“Ah,” Clint nods knowingly. “Did you have a girl? In London … before?”

“Well, that sounds a bit too possessive, to say I had a girl, but yeah, there was a girl, err, a woman …” Steve admits.

“Ah ha.”

“We never … we kept circling around each other as if we had all the time in the world,” Steve remembers sadly. “Lots of other people saw the war as an excuse to seize the day, but we … we just kept waiting … it was like we felt we’d jinx things. I don’t know.”

“Sorry.”

“I know it’s been decades for you, but for me it’s less than a year,” Steve murmurs. He clenches and unclenches his fist.

Not for the first time, Clint feels lost at dealing with his time travelling partner. How do you deal with grief for so many people, so much of your life, all lost and found in an instant?

“It’s my biggest regret,” Steve says softly. “Not … not telling her how I felt until it was too late.”

“Do you know what happened to her?” Clint asks, wondering if he ought to steer the conversation to calmer waters.

“She moved on,” Steve answers. “I’m glad about that. She was a major player in SSR – you know the organization that later became SHIELD?”

“No kidding?”

“M’huh. I think she ended up as deputy director or something.”

“Are you talking about Meg Carter?”

“Peggy Carter.”

“SHIELD’s offices here in London are named after her,” he tells Steve. 

“Really?”

“And the training facility in Virginia.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“She was a force,” Clint remembers. “She’s the reason we have so many female agents and why we recruit the way we do. Big believer in diversity and creativity. Pick the right people and train them your way.”

“She recruited me too,” Steve says carefully. “I mean for the project. Erskine was the driving force, but she conducted all the assessments. Pretty sure she was the one who recommended me."

“Holy cow.”

Part of him wonders that Clint doesn’t know this tidbit of his life, but Clint has already confessed that he doesn’t know much about the legend of Captain America. “Fury told us that if we didn’t already know the stuff, to stay away and let you tell us what you want us to know,” he had explained when they first started working together.

Steve appreciates the courtesy.

 

They clean up at their hotel, eat dinner and then Clint suggests drinks at a local watering hole.

Steve is feeling pensive. For the first time he’s wondering if he should resurrect the Captain America persona with the shield and everything. It’s slowly dawning on him that he has choices in this new world. He mentions something of this to Clint. What is this training supposed to lead to?

They’re in exactly the kind of environment – loud with music and background conversation that Clint has already warned him makes conversation difficult, but Clint insisted that this was the place to be. He listens now to Steve’s pondering and laughs.

“You don’t see that you’re being groomed?” he says to Steve.

“For what?”

“Leadership,” Clint says bluntly. “Couple of months, you’ll be giving me orders.”

Steve makes a face.

“Ok with me,” Clint assures him. “Just remember that I don’t take orders well. I’m not army.”

“You’re not?” Steve asks. “Where’d you learn your skills?”

“The circus.”

Steve resolves to figure out how to hack into the HR files to get the real back story behind his partner.

“Just remember that you have more control this time around,” Clint says. “If you do decide to bring back ole Cap, you can make him more in your image. More like a modern Steve Rogers kind of guy.”

“Thought you didn’t know much about Captain America?”

“I read a couple of comics when I was younger. Kind of a dweeb.”

Steve grins. “So you think I shouldn’t? Too old fashioned?”

Clint hedges. “I think this is your decision, I wouldn’t want to tell you one way or another. But make sure you have more say. Don’t leave it all up to the PR guys no matter what you finally decide.”

Steve would say more, but out of the corner of his eye he can see Elaine, the female agent from this afternoon, threading her way through the crowd followed by another woman.

He looks meaningfully at Clint who shrugs and tries (and fails) to look innocent.

“You were drooling,” Clint insists.

“Was not.”

Nevertheless, he stands politely when she gets to the table. She introduces him to her friend, Samira who shakes his hand.

Samira greets Clint with a kiss. Steve mentally shakes his head. Not just a woman in every port, but ALL women in every port.

They sit. They order drinks. They talk. Samira and Clint maintain a private conversation using sign language. Steve and Elaine talk to each other.

Elaine explains to Steve that Samira’s brother is deaf, thus she grew up signing at home. He resolves to learn how to sign at the first opportunity.

Once he gets over the accent – she sounds just like Peggy! – Steve enjoys the conversation. Elaine is clever and confident – just like Peggy! – with a lovely sense of humour. She’s married, as evidenced by the wedding band on her finger, but she flirts very gently with Steve. And he enjoys bantering with her.

“Is this your first time in London?”she asks.

“No ma’am,” he answers. “But it’s been a long time since I’ve been back.”

“Do you have time to do some sightseeing or do you have to go back right away?”

“We’re going to do some exploring,” he explains. “For a few days. Depends what the boss decides,” he indicates Clint.

She laughs. “I’ve never known Clint to work with a partner. Except for Natasha, of course.”

“You know her?"

“Everyone knows her,” she says.

“She kicked my butt the other day,” he admits.

Elaine smiles sweetly and he can feel his heart flutter.

They’ve paid and they’re about to leave when he feels the need for some air. Clint is distracted by someone who has just greeted him. It’s not quite a panic attack, but Steve excuses himself and goes out to the balcony.

Elaine joins him after a while. 

“You OK?”

“Yeah, just needed a moment.”

“Can I ask you a question? Kind of a weird question?"

“Hmmm. Sure.”

“Are you … you’re not by any chance Captain America, are you?”

He stares at her in amazement. “What gave me away?”

She gives a little laugh. “It’s my field,” she explains. “Reading body language and all. I was studying the ‘psychology of lying’ at university when SHIELD recruited me. Thought I’d be going into counselling or academics like my classmates, but ended up specializing in interrogation.”

“So I need a better cover story.”

She smiles. “It was fine. For anyone else. There were just a few … inconsistencies.”

“And you jumped from that to ‘must be Captain America?’ Wow.”

“I inferred from your partnership with Clint. He doesn’t usually train new recruits and I knew you’d been … recovered.”

He nods, appreciating her skill.

"So how are you doing?" she asks gently. "Adapting, I mean, to the modern world? There must be so much to get used to."

He takes a deep breath. "Everyone keeps talking about the new technology and stuff," he says, "like that's the tough part, but I can figure all that out. For me, it's the loss. Everyone I knew, everyone who knew me - all gone."

She puts her hand on his arm. "I can only imagine."

"I'm doing OK," he assures her. "Making new friends, starting to think about what I'm going to do."

"Are you seeing anyone? Like a therapist?"

"No."

"You should," she urges him. "I work with guys with PTSD and such. Having someone to talk to can be a lifesaver."

He shrugs. "I don't have PTSD."

She smiles gently as if she'd expected his answer. "Walk me home? I just live a few blocks away."

"Sure." He offers her his arm and she slips her hand into the crook of his elbow.

They chat on the way. He tells her about how terrible the air was during the wartime. Even though he didn't have asthma any more, the air was so bad at he'd take a breath and half expect to start wheezing.

She tells him a little about her work at the university.

Elaine lives in a typical London brownstone. They enter and she offers him water.

"So I'm guessing, if you're just sort of getting out and about, that you don't have a girlfriend?" she asks.

"No."

"So if I asked if you'd like to stay ... ?"

He has been idly looking around, but at her question, his attention snaps back to her. "Err. What?"

She looks amused. "I guess modern women are a bit too forward? Sorry."

"No, it's not that," he says slowly. "I thought you were married?"

"Really? Why'd you think that?"

"The ring?"

"Ah ... no."

He reassesses the evening's conversation wondering at the signals he must have missed.

"Am I reading you wrong?" she smiles gently. "I was getting the feeling that you are ... interested?"

"Um, yes," he answers. "You're very attractive."

"But?"

"Nothing. I just didn't realize..."

"Too soon?" she suggests. "You're probably still grieving and not yet ready ..."

He can feel the ghost of Bucky standing at his side, punching his shoulder and saying - are you kidding? Don't blow this!

And still he hesitates . "So much has changed," he says carefully. "Sometimes I miss things, or find that the way things are done have changed ..."

She cocks her head to one side. "I doubt sex has changed."

"God, I hope not," he says with feeling.

"So ....?"

"I'm flattered," he admits."Just a bit nervous ..."

She steps forward so she's in his space. "Trust me?"

And he closes the gap, takes that metaphorical leap and kisses her.


	2. aftermath

Elaine wakes him in the morning. "Clint's looking for you."

"Huh?"

She holds up her phone. "Just sent me a message asking when I saw you last - wondering if he should send out an all-points bulletin for an agent lost."

"Oh for crying out loud ..."

Steve grabs at his trousers lying on the floor and turns on his phone. A series of text messages, each more irritated than the last pop up.

Hope ur getting lucky - cause I'm in shit if I've lost Cap Am - reads the last one.

Steve texts back. Sorry. Phone off. Meet for b-fast?

Elaine reappears in the doorway. "I'm making pancakes. You OK to stay?"

Steve texts Clint again - maybe lunch instead?

 

When Steve finally arrives at the cafe, Clint pretends to check him over. "Are you wearing the same clothes from last night?"

"That's very perceptive of you," Steve answers sarcastically. "Is that how you got your nickname?"

"Hawkeye? No."

Steve gets the attention of a waitress and orders some coffee and the special.

"Worked up an appetite, did you?" Clint observes.

Steve ignores the jab. "So what's the plan?" he asks.

Clint sketches out some options. SHIELD has given them some time off and he's willing to play tour guide if Steve wants to check out some ww2 sites.

But he can't resist teasing Steve.

"I can't put my finger on it," he says thoughtfully, "but you seem different, more relaxed, like all the tension has gone ..."

"Shut it," Steve responds mildly.

"Seriously, you're gonna surprise a lot of people. This blows Natasha's theory about your problem with women right out of the water."

"What problem with women? I don't have a problem with women."

"I know, I know," Clint denies all responsibility, "but she figures that being raised in the 1930s and all, that you'd have a tough time dealing with modern women."

"This is all because she beat me last week?"

"And because of the whole Captain America thing ..."

"Such a dweeb," Steve quotes Clint with a grimace. "She knows right, that he was kind of a character I played, like an actor? I mean, I wanted to join the army, not the priesthood."

"Oh yeah," Clint laughs. "She just figures, you know, that you're probably a bit shy, a bit ... inexperienced."

"Ouch," Steve mimes stabbing himself with the butter knife. "First she impunges my masculinity in the gym, then in the bedroom?"

"You're saying it's not true? That Captain America wasn't the virtuous guy American parents thought he was? Are you saying he was a fraud?"

"Maybe he, I, was a little like that in the beginning," Steve admits with a grin. "After all, before the procedure I was a scrawny little guy that girls wouldn't look twice at. I might have come across as a bit ... stunned I think is how the kids these days would put it? I had no idea how to talk to girls."

"But then you joined the army," Clint prods.

"And before that, I was on tour with the chorus girls."

"Excuse me?"

"You really don't know your history, do you?" Steve laughs. "I went on tour all across the country with 20 of the prettiest girls in the USA. All the men were going off to war and they treated me like I was the last man in the country. I could have been a one-legged midget with a squint and I wouldn't have escaped with my .... er innocence."

Clint is laughing now. 

"I thought Natasha was a super spy," Steve points out. "How is it that she's bought into essentially wartime propaganda?"

"Dunno," he admits, "but I'm not going to enlighten her. How long do you think you can keep her guessing?"

"Let's see."

**Author's Note:**

> For those who might be interested, 'That night with Elaine' fills in the missing scene between the kiss and the waking up.


End file.
